


Bloodberry and Cream

by Pearlinprocess



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlinprocess/pseuds/Pearlinprocess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate version of "Blood Sugar Magic", where instead of Cedric, Queen Miranda is the one who has the rare blood type that vampire!Baileywick craves. Of course, Roland isn't too sure how he feels about that at first... Rated Mature for blood and some mild sexy-stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was bitingly cold that November night, while Baileywick was riding back to Enchancia through a forest several dozen miles east of her border. It had so far been a lovely and leisurely stroll for both him and his horses, and the guards that the king had appointed him, six of the finest men of valor that his kingdom had to offer. He had been sent to a nearby kingdom on some "official business" - It was actually Roland's way of forcing him to take a holiday now and again, because Baileywick couldn't help but notice that the monarch he was there to report to would be too busy to see him for several days, but would provide him with all kinds of indulgences in their absence. Well it had been nice, having his face stuffed with fancy chocolates in Belgium all week, but now it was time to get back home.

The carriage wheels steadily rocked and rolled over the dusty trail they were passing by, when suddenly the horses whined and came to a stop. One of the soldiers remarked, "Strange, sir - A tree had fallen from the forest and onto our path! We'll clear it for you though!"

At their insistence, Baileywick stayed in the carriage as they began to work together to heft the tree out of the way. The steward began absentmindedly grooming his nails as he waited for them, when suddenly, two of the knights shouted in surprise, and then the others began to struggle with some unknown assailant, an assailant which seemed to be dashing all around the carriage, faster than the wind!

Some sickening sounds soon followed, including some short shouts of shock, whimpering and some snapping noises - And then, sniffing. Right outside his carriage door...

The door in question was suddenly torn right off it's hinges, and Baileywick's scream was frozen in his throat as he saw the creature that peered in. Almost like a man, but so deathly pale, with raven black hair and deep crimson red eyes. Grabbing Baileywick by the front of his vest, the beast dragged him out, and Baileywick screwed his eyes shut as he was greeted to the sight of a white-blond vampire and a red-haired vampire female sucking on the necks of two of the soldiers who had died protecting him...

"Sir, look what I've found here!" The vampire who was holding him mentioned aloud. "Can you smell it on him? He smells just like candy!"

In a flash, an imposingly tall vampire with earthen brown skin and coppery-red hair appeared, and snatched Baileywick from the underling. He looked to be about Roland's age, but the steward could tell that he was not only much older than him, but probably the oldest of any of these vampires too. "Of course I could smell him, I could smell his sweet, rare blood before any of you. He's the only reason I've had us following this carriage all night, fool. Now get your filthy hands off of him. This one is mine, and I won't be sharing!"

Baileywick looked up into the leader's eyes in sheer terror. He was already a rather tall man himself, so his captor was certainly intimidating. But besides that, there was a gleam in his eyes, an edge to his smirk - It made Baileywick feel like a rabbit about to be caught, being looked upon like that...

Then, in the next second, the point of those teeth was upon him, piercing his neck with the jagged bones. Baileywick was sure his heart was about to give out from fright, but in the very next instant, a sense of utter euphoria swept over his body. It was like being injected with a cocktail of narcotics, morphine and ecstasy all at once, and his frail, frightened body couldn't bring itself to want to fight back anymore.

Simultaneously, memories began to flash through Baileywick's mind, reminding him of his life before this terrible night, the life he still desperately wanted to live. As his vision began to flicker away, he reached up and grabbed into the vampire's shoulder, pleading, since it was the only thing he could still manage to do, "I... I can't... Not yet, I must..."

The vampire pulled back on a whim, interested, "Hmm? You must what? What's so important to you, my sweet blooded sir?"

Before Baileywick's head lulled to the side, he managed to whisper one last word, "...F-Fealty..."

The vampire raised an interested eyebrow back at him, "My, such loyalty... I must say, that is admirable indeed, sir. I think I shall reward your loyalty - I will even give you a gift. With this gift, you can serve your lordship for the rest of his life. And his children's lives, and their children's lives too, if you wish! HAH!"

Baileywick wasn't conscious when the trickle of strange, thick red liquid hit his lips. He was barely conscious, besides the excruciating pain, through the full-body-ache of his own cellular death. Only after taking his last breath did he regain his remaining faculties, and only then did he realize, that for everything he'd lost, he'd gained some incredible 'gifts' in return...

For example, he no longer needed his spectacles at all - In fact, he could see far, FAR beyond the forests that he might have otherwise been lost in, and he could even feel the pulses of his most precious family members, almost like a physical link to them. How very disconcerting it was, and yet, also? Undeniably thrilling...

Having no idea what else to do in the surreal situation he'd found himself in, the butler stumbled his way back towards Enchancia, burdened both by his weakness, and all his strange new inexplicable strengths. His sense of smell, in particular, had become so strong that it was incredibly disorienting. He could smell every type of plant there was for miles around him, the sweet and the bitter alike. But beyond all of that, there was blood. The blood of his king. It beckoned him like a lighthouse through the fog of fragrances, and his loyalty eventually led him home.

Despite how frighteningly, deathly pale his appearance was, the king immediately commanded his servants to bring the poor man in, and tend to his wounds. He even and especially insisted they continue to do so after finding the two small puncture wounds in his neck. After all, Baileywick had already thoroughly proved his loyalty to them. Now it was time for that favor to be returned...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO


	2. Chapter 2

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It didn't take the Enchancian Royal Physicians very long at all to figure out that there was something very, very wrong with Baileywick. Roland didn't want to believe it at first, but then a trusted clergyman confirmed everyone's fears when he let a tiny single drop of holy water fall on the steward's ghostly white arm, only to leave a burned, bright red mark where it had met with his skin. Besides that, no matter how much everyone else wanted to deny it, Baileywick was no fool, and he wasn't willing to feign naivety for his own sake. He was completely different than he was before, that was much too obvious.

"Your majesty..." He sighed, as the king began to impatiently but still politely insist that the clergyman find someone else who could help, if he could not. "I'm sorry, but it's no use. This isn't something that can be fixed..."

Roland was desperate to help his oldest friend, and didn't want to hear such negativity. "Baileywick, come now..."

"Sir, I'm -DEAD-." The butler returned rather irritably - It was the first time he had ever been irritable with the king and he instantly regretted it, but he still felt so edgy, so weak... "Please forgive me, your highness, but it's the truth... I can feel it's the case. Call it 'undead' if you want, but I'm too far beyond the limits of modern medicine to be helped. Perhaps it'd be best just to let me lay in the ground until I am no more..."

The king looked dangerously close to indignant against his current attitude, but thankfully the clergyman, a very old but still spry-enough gentleman by the name of Father Francis, spoke up for them both first. "That's quite unnecessary, even with your current condition in mind, sir. You are right that nothing can be done to restore you as you once were, but it is possible, at least in theory, for you to go on living. Now, I just happen to have more experience than most with vampires, so here's what I know - There's a lot of confusing myths muddying up the truth, but a few things are kind of true and a few things are just nonsense. For example, the sun will greatly irritate your skin from here on out, that is true, but you won't burst into flame or crumble into ash. Just stay inside or cover up and take and umbrella if you have to go out from now on. So, at least that's manageable. However..."

The holy man's face went a little grim as he went on, "Unfortunately, it is true that as a vampire you will need to drink blood to survive. And not just any blood - It will absolutely have to be blood directly from a person that is currently alive. Drinking blood that has lost it's vitality for more than just a single minute will make you extremely sick or possibly even kill you. Also, though I have heard of some vampires 'surviving' on animal blood alone, it can really only be barely called that - Surviving. Eventually you will crave human blood too much to control yourself. Vampires tend to have different tastes too, according to what their blood type was in life. You can survive off of any human's blood type, but humans that match your blood type in life will have blood that tastes better to you. However, since you stated that the vampire who changed you, targeted you because of your rare blood type, you might be out of luck if you find yourself picky about how your prospective donors taste."

"Donors?" Baileywick echoed, aghast. "I do NOT think so! I can't expect people to be okay with letting me bite their necks and suck their blood!"

Father Francis shrugged, "Well I didn't -expect- you to expect others to just be okay with it either. I'm perfectly aware you were a gentleman in life, but it would be irresponsible to try and be a martyr in your current state. If you try to live off of animal blood, you will starve yourself into a frenzy and possibly kill someone by draining them. If you feed just a little now and then from willing donors, it will be much easier to stabilize your current condition."

Roland piped up with a bright blush that his pale old friend couldn't help but envy, "To be completely honest Baileywick, I can think of at least five, possibly six maids just off the top of my head that would probably be -very- willing to let you bite and suck on them all you want..."

"Sir!" Baileywick shushed and glared at him, to the king's amusement, although he tried to look somber.

But the vampire expert priest again added sagely, "It would actually be wisest to employ at least three or four people if you can. Feeding from only one donor might cause them to become too weak, or even an accidental drainage. I would suggest no less than at least two, or three, depending on your personal appetite. But that’s just my professional opinion."

Roland nodded, "Well, I'm sorry Baileywick, but that settles it. I won't allow you to simply commit suicide. I and the rest of the royal family will support you one hundred percent with this, and we will do whatever is necessary, -short of taking human life indefinitely-," The king added very pointedly, "In order to keep you well, as long as possible..."

Baileywick stared at his old friend, his previously green, but now red eyes full of gratitude. "...Very well, your majesty. If you insist, I will also agree to pursue what life I still have, and I will accept your help to do it. However, I would truly like to avoid having to take human blood if not absolutely necessary. I understand that this would not normally be possible, but perhaps some magical means might be able to make animal blood suffice? I could at least stand to go ask Cedric about it first before I outright let you start matchmaking me with my coworkers about becoming potential meals for me, right?"

The king snorted, "Well, when you put it like that, it does sound quite a bit more awkward..."

The butler quirked an eyebrow dryly back at him. "You think?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Before leaving to make his way up to the tower, Father Francis had given Baileywick a pig to drink from, to ensure that he wasn't starving when he went to see the sorcerer, as magical blood might be too much of a temptation otherwise. In life, Baileywick had enjoyed an occasional pork roast, but even as a creature of the night, he found the taste of pig's blood almost as disgusting as he would have imagined it being in life. It made him feel slightly less famished, but it wasn't at all palatable -- Like mud and bitter baking chocolate without a single grain of sugar to sweeten it. The old butler still had a somewhat childish palate for sweets, as most folk in Enchancia did, so it wasn't easy to appreciate the 'meal'.

Because of the awful taste, Baileywick wasn’t able to finish the ‘meal’, which left him far from filled. But tried to remain as positive as he could manage, and he maintained hope that seeing Cedric could find a way to help his situation. So he trudged his way along towards the stairs that would take him to Cedric's tower, only to stop and sigh once he reached them. The old steward had always had an impeccable record for his work ethic, he had been climbing all over that castle for years. But with as little energy as he had tonight, he found he had never wanted to ascend a set of stairs less in all his life...

And not just because the sorcerer at it's summit was a great pain in the ass to deal with. It was just before five in the morning, which meant the magical man in question was either just about to go to bed after a night of his silly sorcery, or had just done so. Either way, he was going to be even less pleasant to deal with than usual, and Baileywick was already exhausted, and in no mood to beg and bribe the bad-tempered man-brat...

Plus the scent of those awful potions he was always making was irritable to his nose back when he was a normal human. Now that he had a sense of smell hundreds of times greater, it was already making him sick from the bottom of the stairs. Thankfully though, there seemed to be something pleasantly sweet in the air too. Actually, it was very sweet, and very pleasant -- Not to mention natural and fresh, like a ripe berry...

Strawberries, that's what it smelled like. At the peak of their growing season, tart but full of sugars. It was accompanied by a creamy undertone, as if the purest mother's milk had been whipped into a sinfully delicate dessert, the kind of frosting that was impossible not to be tempted to steal a swipe from the bowl. And beneath both of those, there were undertones of the most fragrant rose.

The impossibly sweet scent was getting stronger every second too, and though he wasn't sure why, a familiar image arose in Baileywick's mind as it came ever closer. The image just seemed to belong to that scent, unquestionably -- And sure enough, just as he began to question it, the person in his mind spoke up from just behind him, "Baileywick? Are you alright? Oh -- Forgive me, that must seem like such a stupid thing to ask right now. Violet just came and woke me to tell me what had happened to you tonight. Baileywick, I'm so sorry!"

He took a shuddering breath, which he didn't need and hurt his chest, before turning to confirm what he already knew was causing the sense of dread within his stomach. It was the Queen, and she, -she- was what smelled so irresistibly sweet...

Of course it was far more frequently the case than not that the Queen had a lovely scent surrounding her. Besides having the finest perfumes in the kingdom at her disposal, Miranda also still liked to bake things in her spare time, even with all the finest chefs in the kingdom at her beck and call too. Her first husband had been a baker and had passed those skills onto her, and she often smelled of the fruit pies and tarts she liked to create some days. 

But this was... Disconcertingly different. She literally smelled -irresistible-, as if the pulse beating within her skin was metal to a magnet in the core of Baileywick’s belly, deep in his gut, and it was now growling, -gnawing- at him to pull her in close, to -bite- her...

“Baileywick?”

“G... Get away from me, Miranda...” He suddenly growled at her, forcibly wrenching his eyes and the rest of his face away. It didn’t really help though. His nostrils were still full of that maddening scent, the jagged rolling in his stomach making his mind fuzzy and his mood impatient and irritable.

But the innocent and unsuspecting queen had no idea where the shockingly rude behavior was coming from – Even with what she’d heard about what had happened, she’d never imagined her immaculately mannered steward would ever be so rude, even with good cause. So it only made her all the more worried and determined to help him. “Baileywick!” She scolded, but mildly. “You don’t have to be like that! Are you in pain? I’m sure you must be. Do you need help getting up the stairs? Here, let me help you...”

Before he could insist for her not to, because he was having trouble enough just keeping himself from lunging after her, she had taken one of his arms and wrapped it around the back of her neck and shoulders, “There, just lean on me and I can help you—AH!”

The short shriek escaped her throat as, quicker than a flash, he twisted their bodies around, and in the next instant, had her back slammed against a wall, her arms pinned securely on each side by his shockingly strong grip, and his lips, dry and thirsty, were hovering directly over her pulse.

“I’m sorry—“ He breathed out in a voice that was only half his own. The other half of him was a primal, animalistic hunger, controlling his body as he deeply inhaled her scrumptious scent, “I do need your help, your majesty – I’m sorry, I don’t want to, but – I MUST!”

His words didn’t make much sense to her, but he was through trying to make sense of himself anyways. In the next second, newly formed fangs had punctured skin, and the carnal nectar he sought, the most delectable of drink, flowed into Baileywick’s waiting mouth, who moaned as the deepest satisfaction he’d ever known washed over his tongue, along with the flavor of berries. 

Not exactly strawberries, as he’d first imagined. It was like a completely new kind of fruit that neither he nor any other human had ever sampled. And considering he worked at a palace, he’d tried many kinds of exotic fruits.

There was a strong hint of something like strawberry, and cherry, but there was also something exotic and unknown in that flavor, like passion-fruit, but heavier, like the tang of wine, and yet pure and creamy, like milk and whipped cream. His mouth securely latched onto the wound that his new canine teeth had released, and he suckled upon the flow like a famished child from their mother’s teat, finally filling the desires that drove him to his desperate actions in the first place.

Miranda’s form was shocked into freezing, at least at first. It hurt of course, when he bit her, but she still didn’t try to fight back. For one thing, with his teeth sunken into her flesh, if she moved even a little bit she could accidentally cause him to tear her entire throat open. But more importantly than that was the fact that it felt so incredibly, unbelievably good...

Not just because it gave her more than a bit of a thrilling warmth in the pit of her belly either. It was every kind of euphoria she’d ever known. It was like the eating something sweet and warm, and embracing a loved one. She felt giddy and excited, but also calm and secure, beloved and protected...

But most importantly of all, it was because in spite of all of this, the attack and the magically induced hormones, Miranda still absolutely trusted Baileywick, even with her very own life.

So sure enough, as soon as she reached up and touched his shoulder, and let out a soft, “Oh...!” It brought him back to his senses almost immediately, and he took just one more lap to her neck, to lick the last of the droplets there and seal the wound, before pulling away again. 

He was just about to apologize profusely to her, but before he could, they were both shocked to hear the voice of their king suddenly shout out, “BAILEYWICK! What in the HELL?”

Satisfaction immediately drowned out by guilt, Baileywick took several steps away from the queen. However, it was obvious that that was far from enough to calm the livid monarch, and naturally, who could blame him? No matter how long they’d been friends, as far as Roland could see, his trusted steward had just viciously attacked his wife...

He couldn’t hit his old friend though, no matter how mad he was, and he was more betrayed and disappointed than he was outraged anyways. But in his provoked, protective state, he couldn’t help but give the man a good hard shove to the chest, probably of the hardest he’d ever given anyone. 

...And Baileywick didn’t move a muscle. They both stopped, and looked down at Roland’s hands on Baileywick’s chest in astounded bafflement, trying to figure out what just happened. From the King’s perspective, his hands had just connected with a fleshy but immoveable force, like a two-ton boulder covered in clothes. From Baileywick’s perspective, however, it was like... 

Well, to be quite frank, it wasn’t even as if a child had just tried to shove him. Even a child ought to be stronger than that. It was as if a child’s DOLL had tried to shove him. As if the King’s hands had turned into feather down pillows. In all seriousness, it hurt him no more than a gently breeze or a kitten’s sneeze would hurt him...

But he realized, though a few seconds too late due to his astonishment, that really wasn’t what the King wanted to see at the moment, and so he quickly stumbled a few steps back, or tried to, in his delayed and slightly theatrical kind of way.

His display only made Roland redder, but thankfully for both of them, Miranda started to giggle lazily. “Pffft, oh my goodness... Rolly, calm down, darling...” She continued to chuckle as she stumbled over to her husband, who caught her, and stared at her in confusion, wondering why she looked as if she’d just had one too many glasses of wine. “Aha, trust me, this is so –NOT- what it looks like...”

“Miranda--? Sweetheart, are you okay...?”He inquired, the steam blowing out of him as it seemed that she at least didn’t –feel- traumatized or hurt after what just happened. But then again, he quickly reminded himself, it might have been because she’d lost too much blood. With that in mind, he glared back at Baileywick. “I... I can’t believe you’d do this, Baileywick!”

“Rolly, Rolly, Roland--!” Miranda interrupted his scolding in an urgent tone of her own, quick to defend the butler, “He couldn’t help it, honey—“

“Miranda, what are you saying?” He gaped back at her. “That’s no excuse!”

Leaning her head down on his shoulder, she patted his arm. “Listen, sweety – I know it normally wouldn’t be, when a man attacks a woman. But this is different. Baileywick was literally starving! If a starving man came to the castle, you’d never not feed him, right, Rolly?”

The monarch was still unconvinced, and again turned back to his elder. “Baileywick, if you were that hungry, why didn’t you say so before? Father Francis warned you, and, didn’t the pig’s blood do anything for you--?”

Baileywick shook his head and then hung it down in shame. “I’m so sorry your majesty, but it didn’t – If anything, that foul blood only made me hungrier. However, Queen Miranda, though I appreciate you defending me, Roland is right too. It’s no excuse, and even if it wasn’t on purpose, this is my fault. Father Francis said my rare blood type might make me a picky eater, but Miranda’s blood smelled so heavenly – We must share the same rare blood type, because it was literally –irresistible-. And that’s the –worst- part about it! If I’m not able to control myself around anyone, but especially the queen, I simply can’t be allowed to remain here...”

Roland hesitated as he made his claim, caught between wanting to keep his wife safe, and to remain by his best and oldest friend’s side in his time of need. But Miranda didn’t hesitate for a second as she turned on her husband and gave him a stern and purposeful look. “Rolly, we need to go back to our room and talk. And Baileywick? You are not going anywhere, but to bed! You WILL be at our room first thing in the morning, as you usually are. That’s an order, for both of you! Now hop to it!”

Her firmness diffused the situation, and Baileywick nodded and bowed out as Miranda pushed her sullen husband back towards their private quarters. 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The queen continued to push her husband towards their bedroom, but only for a short while, as her footsteps were still weak and unsteady. Then the King wound her arm around his shoulders, and resumed leading her until he had gotten her back into their bed. 

“Rolly,” She immediately picked back up once she’d laid down, before the comfort of her downy bed lulled her into sleep. “You have to know Baileywick didn’t mean to hurt me. And, for that matter, he really didn’t hurt me at all! The bite barely even hurt!”

“But Miranda, he attacked you!” Roland insisted right back, still worried over her. “-YOU- have to know that I’m the last person in the world that would ever harm Baileywick, and the first person to want to help him. But I can’t just ignore that he attacked my wife!”

“Roland.” She repeated, stern and authoritative this time, but also seeking reason. “It’s BAILEYWICK.” She let that simply statement of fact settled in the air between, and sure enough, Roland stopped, sighed, and looked down. “I think it was a little hard for both of us to believe at first, him being a vampire... We knew it, but it was hard to think of Baileywick that way. But now we know for certain, and we know he needs our help more than ever now. Roland, he –didn’t mean to-. I know it seems more serious than it was, and it was shocking for you, finding us like that. But it truly was an accident, and I don’t blame him. I forgive him. In fact, I was actually on my way to offer Baileywick my services as a donor anyways, when the incident occurred!”

That definitely got Roland’s attention again, and his head snapped back up. “W-What--?!”

She nodded calmly in affirmation, without shame at the admission. “Violet overheard you and Father Francis talking to Baileywick through the door. She told me everything she heard. And so, naturally, knowing how selfless Baileywick is, I decided to go to him and tell him that it was alright to drink the blood of the willing if he needed to, that I wouldn’t stand for him starving himself, and that if he even needed blood from me myself, I’d be happy to give it to him! Of course, I didn’t get to that part, but Baileywick TRIED to get me to go away when he was feeling the urges – It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t get away in time, but it’s not his either. Either way, I still forgive him, because it’s –Baileywick-. Vampirism has changed who and what he IS. But it will never change who he WAS and will always be...”

By the last sentence, Roland was nodding back in agreement and resolution. “Miranda... You’re absolutely right. I got too emotional back there. I owe Baileywick an apology. God, what was I thinking... I’ve known that man since I was a child!”

She smiled and reached over, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek, and patting it gently afterwards. “An apology would be a good start, Rolly. But you know, I think you can do one better than that...”

Memories of his childhood with Baileywick had been flashing before his mind, but that again got his attention. “One better?”

“Yes...” She replied slowly, her mouth stretching into a sly sort of grin. “It... Really didn’t hurt, you know! In fact, it actually felt really amazing! Getting bitten like that, I mean. Not really in a sexual way though!” She hurried to add, as Roland began giving her a bit of a jealous pout. “I mean, for the –most- part. I can’t lie, it does feel a little, well, tingly? But mostly, it’s like a really comforting hug. Like the kind of hugs you used to get from your parents when you were really little. Those hugs that made you feel all safe and loved? Of course if you’re really uncomfortable with the thought, I can think of at least -10- maids that would be glad to offer their services to Baileywick. But Baileywick needs to feel safe and secure too. He’d probably prefer to take blood from the people he’s known the longest and most personally, instead of his colleagues...” 

“You think... You think –I- should let Baileywick drink my blood too?” Roland blinked back at her in surprise.

She shrugged ‘innocently’. “I’m just saying, if you wanted to, it wouldn’t hurt to offer. Not only would you be helping Baileywick, who does need at least two donors, but you’d also be keeping the burden from falling onto the servants, who already do so much for us! After all, a good King should want to help his people, and try not to burden them as much as possible, right?”

A blush was starting to creep onto his cheeks. “I... I suppose you’re right about that... And... I suppose, if you’re going to offer your services too, it would enable me to make sure you two both stay safe...”

“Exactly!” She grinned, then settled back down into her bed. “Well, we can talk about this more in the morning. I need to rest up now. Baileywick didn’t take too much from me, but he’ll be needing more tomorrow, so a good night’s rest and a big breakfast is in order!”

Roland nodded, and smoothed his hand over her brow before kissing it. “I’ll let the servants know to make all your favorites tomorrow. Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Rolly-bear.”

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO  
The next morning was the first morning in years that Baileywick had been late to greet the King, though only by a few minutes, and only because the old steward was still too overwhelmed with guilt to face his liege. Especially since, even after weakly allowing himself to partake of the Queen’s sweet blood the night before, his stomach still had the nerve to ache with hunger again. He wished the organ would just swallow his entire being whole...

It was Miranda who finally opened the door to check if he was there, and sure enough, the butler was merely loitering around outside the door, too nervous to signal his presence, which he assumed was still unwanted. He hadn’t slept the whole night, though that wasn’t due to guilt, but to his new vampirism. He didn’t really need the sleep anymore, but he still felt exhausted.

“Good Morning, Baileywick!” Miranda chirped at him, still not seeming the least bit mad. In fact, there was nothing about her that suggested she’d experienced the terror she had, except for one thing: A ribbon choker necklace she had randomly decided to wear that morning. Of course, Baileywick knew it wasn’t really random at all, but due to the bite marks he’d left on her throat the night before, which only reminded him of his guilt anew... 

“Queen Miranda, I’m so, so sorry...” He tried again, but instead of letting him continue out in the hall, Miranda quickly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in. He let her, and she closed the door behind them afterwards.

“Now, now, Baileywick. There’s no need for that.” She chided him, leading him by the arm further into the room, where Roland stood, already fully dressed, by the foot of the bed. Once there, she finally let go of the steward’s hand, and patted him gently on the shoulder. “You should know, I bear no grudge against you at all. I forgive you entirely. But Roland would like to have a short discussion with you before you two start your day. So, I’ll leave you both to it!”

Following that announcement, Miranda left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Baileywick to stare back at his somber king with a gulp, “Um... Your majesty...?”

“You’re not fired, if that wasn’t already obvious.” He returned shortly, leaning against the post of his bed. “And you’re not going anywhere otherwise. You’re part of this family Baileywick, and I’d just as soon send you away as I would James, Amber or Sofia.”

Baileywick sighed in a small amount of relief, and bowed his head in understanding. “Thank you, your majesty. And again, I am so very sorry about what hap—“

“We already established there was no need for that, Baileywick.” Roland reminded him, straightening himself out and taking a step towards the butler. “As a matter of fact, it’s me that needs to apologize to you...”

“Your grace--?!” The steward repeated in shock, almost choking on his own tongue.

“Heh...” The king chuckled under his breath, “You did give me quite a scare Baileywick, I can’t deny that. Any man would worry over his wife being in the position I found Miranda in last night. It was because I was so worried for her, though, that I temporarily forgot just who –YOU- were... I should never have doubted you, old friend.”

Baileywick took a step back and bowed deeply. “No, sire. You had every right to doubt me. I would have doubted me too. No matter our past, the way I acted last night was inexcusable...”

Roland simply shrugged. “I might agree with you, Baileywick – If Miranda was disinclined to excuse you, too. But she forgave you, easily. And now I’m saying, I forgive you too. How could I not? After all, Miranda wasn’t the first one to call me Rolly...”

That simple statement caused Baileywick to give pause, old memories washing over him. “Oh my goodness...” He finally mumbled, his lips stretching into a smile, the worry finally fading from his brow.

“Haha! You remember that too, right?” Roland egged him on, siding on over to his old friend and giving him a nudge to the ribs with his elbow. “When we first met? I was barely more than a baby. And poor you, your parents made you babysit the Castle Terror!”

“You were no terror of any kind, your majesty...” 

“Not to you! I was much more obedient with you than I was with the other caretakers!”

“Which is precisely why I got stuck babysitting you.” Baileywick snorted back at him, his smile stretching into a grin, absentmindedly showing off his newly formed fangs.

Roland couldn’t help but stare at them, “Wow, those things really are real... And really –sharp-. No wonder Miranda said she barely felt anything.”

The butler let out a sigh of relief. “She said that? Of course I still feel terrible about all this, but I’m glad I didn’t seriously hurt her after all...”

“Well, that’s what she said.” Roland replied, a contemplative look passing over his features. “But then, you know Miranda. She’s a tough cookie, and so very polite. She might not mention it if it really did hurt. So that’s why I’ve been thinking...”

Baileywick blinked, “Your majesty...?”

Surprisingly nervous about it, Roland quickly cleared his throat and took a short step forward. “Baileywick... I’d like to make a request. I want you... To bite me, as well.”

The old steward choked on a gasp of air he didn’t need, and turned his head away as he coughed. “Sire! You can’t be serious!”

“I’m dead serious, Baileywick! Please excuse the turn of phrase.” He added, realizing that perhaps ‘dead’ wasn’t the best word to use about old Bailey at the moment. “Miranda’s got her mind set on becoming one of your donors, and if she’s going to do that, I want to make sure it’s as painless as she’s insisting. Plus...”

The king suddenly fidgeted, and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well... I was thinking, that if the taste suits you, I’d also like to offer my services as a donor. The priest DID say you’d need at least two!” He reminded him quickly, “And of course, I want to make sure that Miranda doesn’t overwhelm herself with her generosity, as she sometimes tends to do...”

“Your majesty!” The butler finally exclaimed once he’d finally gotten the chance to interject. “This offer is certainly nothing if not magnanimous, but you can’t seriously expect me to accept it! You’re the King! No one is supposed to harm a hair on your head, let alone bite you!”

“Oh Baileywick, calm down – There’s LOTS of things that Kings aren’t supposed to do that I still do.” He reminded him fairly, rolling his eyes. “You used to not mind it so much, back when I was still a kid...”

“Things were very different back then...” He agreed, crossing his arms and looking to the side as he remembered those long-gone days. The pleasant and familiar nostalgia did seem to calm him. “You used to hug me around the legs so tight, I couldn’t even walk!”

Roland snorted into laughter, though he tried in vain to repress it. “You used to have to drag me along in order to get anywhere! I’m sure the two of us made quite a sight, didn’t we?”

“A spectacle, is how the Queen referred to it...”

“And I suppose that’s why you started insisting I stop hugging you...” Roland finished for the both of them. “Mother thought I was getting too old for all that... I sure do miss those days, though.”

“I... I miss them sometimes, too...” Baileywick slowly admitted, readjusting his glasses, and shyly hiding his eyes as he did so.

“Well then – For old time’s sake?” Roland smirked, quirking an eyebrow at him before reaching up, and pulling the ribbon sash away from his neck. “You could at least stand to take a sample? That is, if the King’s blood is good enough for you...”

The sight of that exposed neck immediately caused Baileywick’s tongue to become parched and dry, and his stomach churned on itself, craving what was being offered. The scent coming off of Roland was much more subtle than Miranda’s, but the sound of his beating pulse and rushing blood, silent to any human but loud as a waterfall to Baileywick, was more than enough to tempt him. It awoke not only the steward’s hunger, but his most primal desires and instincts.

The part of him that was still human struggled to reign it back in though, and he took several nervous steps back. “Please, your majesty... You don’t know what you’re asking me for...”

“I’m fairly sure I have an idea... But, perhaps you’re right...” Despite that admission, Roland didn’t withdraw. Instead, he took several steps forward, until he was right in front of the vampire once more. Then, he unbuttoned the first two top buttons in his shirt, and pulled the fabric back, giving full access to his neck and shoulder. “I suppose we won’t know until we’ve tried though. So, why don’t you show me...?”

Suddenly, so fast that Roland only barely caught the blur of the movement, Baileywick had grabbed his arms by the biceps, squeezing them against the sides of his torso in a vice-grip. The old butler had never been a weakling by any means, but the king had never imagined that he could be –this- strong, either. A thrill of shock, though not fear, shot through the monarch’s spine as he was pulled in closer, close enough that Baileywick could lean his head down, and blow his cool breath upon the king’s heated, living flesh. 

“My liege... Are you absolutely sure about this...” He half-asked, and half-growled – As if he were holding a snarling dog back on a leash. 

But the king didn’t hesitate for even a second before rasping back, his throat thick with his own barely-suppressed fervor, “Y-Yes...!”

Delicately grazing his lips and teeth just above the king’s flesh, the steward whispered back, “Very well then, sire...” 

There was no holding back that mad dog now, and Baileywick sunk his needle-sharp teeth into his king’s waiting, wanting pulse with no shame. No shame, but no small amount of curiosity. What exactly does a King taste like, he couldn’t help but wonder?

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as the younger man’s blood soon began to rush into his mouth. Initially, it was awfully bitter, but of course Baileywick wouldn’t dare spit it out, even if he wasn’t hungry enough to still want it. But his appetite was only slightly less voracious than it had been the night before, so he gave it a second chance, and once the flavor had settled, he found that there was actually something of substance within the bitterness. 

More than anything, there was a strong sort of dark coffee flavor, but beneath that, there was also a hint of burnt caramel, and a charred marshmallow that had been left too long in the flames and had become blackened. It wasn’t the kind of flavor that would appeal to a child’s palate, but Baileywick found that it tasted just fine to his more matured tongue, once he became accustomed to it. In fact, like the morning cup of coffee that he used to enjoy, it filled him with pep and energy, and made him feel awake and alert. 

And now that the blood was really flowing, he could taste something else too... It tasted as if someone had added a dollop of sweet cream into the King’s coffee-flavored richness. A very familiar creamy taste, which it didn’t take long for Baileywick to place...

Especially since, as he drew the cream-and-coffee taste into his mouth, memories began to flow with them. Memories that weren’t his, but were playing out in his head as if he had been there. The king was lying in bed, when the queen suddenly awoke, and shook him awake as well. He began to inquire as to what she wanted, but then she started kissing him, passionately -- Desirous.

The images that followed were so shockingly ardent, Baileywick had to pull back again, his pale cheeks temporarily lit up with color. “Your majesty! Please forgive me, I--!”

“Baileywick, stop—“ Roland cut him off, but finding himself suddenly woozy, he forgot where his footing was and nearly tipped over – Thankfully though, his faithful old friend caught him as soon as he began to fall, and then, despite the blood loss, the king began to blush as well, secured in those strong arms...

“I didn’t mean to see that, sire—“ The butler tried again, but Roland shook his head.

“I don’t mind, it wasn’t on purpose. Though, if anything, I should really be thanking you for that...” Giving him a lopsided grin, Roland shyly explained, “I mean, we didn’t really –need- any help in the bedroom, of course, but – I can’t deny, it’s pretty interesting to know Miranda has a weak spot for having her neck bitten. And well, now I can see why... Boy that’s a head rush!” He suddenly began to snort and giggle, clasping onto the front of Baileywick’s jacket.

“U-Um...” He wasn’t really sure what to say to that strange admission at first, so he decided to make the king’s wellbeing his first priority, instead of his strange inebriated words. “Here sire, you should sit down for a few minutes...”

Leading him to a nearby chair, Baileywick sat him down, and then procured a handkerchief, which he first used to wipe the king’s neck, and then his own mouth. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to say about all that he’d seen and what had just happened, so he waited for the King to make his own proclamations instead.

It took him a few more moments, but Roland finally looked up again without his head rolling in confusion, and took a deep, calming breath. “So... Was the taste of my blood to your liking, Baileywick?”

The butler no longer had enough of the King’s blood to heat his face, but he did squirm. “Er... Yes, your majesty, it was delicious...” That was perhaps a bit of an overstatement, but he wasn’t about to say ‘Well yes, but your wife tasted better’...

“Good!” Roland chirped back, “Then I’ll be your donor in the morning, and Miranda will donate for you in the evening!”

Despite already craving a second taste of that strange royal blood, Baileywick couldn’t help but protest, “Your majesty, it’s not that simple—“

“It could be, if you stopped trying to be such a martyr.” Roland protested right back. “The priest said you needed at least two donors, and you already said you didn’t want to encroach upon the professional relationship you share with your coworkers – Well, I’d say our relationship has never been entirely professional, but especially now that you’ve seen me and my wife in bed together—“

“Sire!” Baileywick nearly squealed in mortification, turning his head away in embarrassment. 

Roland just laughed at the poor pious man’s discomfort. “Come now, Old Bailey, what do you say? I won’t force you to do anything you don’t really want, but I’m telling you now, you’re not forcing me or Miranda to do anything we don’t really want to do, either...”

The steward sighed as he looked back, “Well... If you insist, your majesty—“

“And I do insist.”

“Then I suppose,” He went on, “It’s a most generous offer, which only a fool would turn down...”

“And you’re certainly no fool.” Roland concluded, “So, that’s that, then! Erm, unless...”

“Unless?” Baileywick immediately repeated in concern.

But Roland only blushed as he clarified, “Unless... You’re still hungry? Did you perhaps, need any more blood? To get you through the day?”

Gulping, Baileywick averted his gaze once more, “Oh! No, sire. Thank you, but I should be fine until this evening.” Rubbing his arm, he added after a short pause, “You’re sure it didn’t hurt...?”

Roland shook his head. “Not at all! In fact... Well, it actually felt quite nice. It felt like...”

Baileywick looked back again as the king paused at length, only to find the King looking wistfully in the other direction as well. “Like what, your grace?”

“...It felt like... Like a hug. Like how we used to hug, when I was a kid... I felt warm, and safe... I liked it.”

“Oh...” Despite the slight embarrassment, Baileywick couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug up into a smile. “Well then... I’m glad that’s the case, sir. And I... I should like to accept your generous offer.” 

“Good man! Er, vampire.” Roland chuckled. “Then I suppose that settles it! You’ve had your breakfast, and now it’s time for me to get to mine~”

“Yes sir.” Baileywick bowed, resuming his way out of the door. However, just as soon as he’d gone through it, the maid Violet quite nearly bumped right into him. He felt her presence at just the last second though, and cleverly side-stepped around her. “Oh! Pardon me, Violet.”

“Oh, no sir! Pardon me!” She answered, lifting her skirt into a curtsy, her cheeks flushed red. “It’s just, well, I had heard about your unfortunate condition sir, but I wanted you to know – I’d be quite happy to alleviate your hunger anytime, sir!” 

Baileywick couldn’t help but notice how she fumbled with the words, and shyly turned his head to the side at he realized what that must mean. “O-Oh, dear, well – I do thank you for your kind offer, Violet. Truly, it means a lot to me! But you see, I’ve already found suitable donors...”

Just as he was saying that, Roland appeared out of his room as well. He had buttoned up his shirt, but he hadn’t yet tied the bow around his neck, leaving the two pricks on his neck exposed. Violet saw it, and as soon as he saw her staring at him, Roland quickly coughed and began to fasten the ribbon around his neck once more.

“Oh!” The maid exclaimed in recognition, “Oh, I see, sir! Please pardon me—“ 

Curtsying again, she quickly made her way off down the hall once more. As soon as she was out of earshot, Baileywick let out a loud, drawn-out sigh, and smacked his forehead in mortification. “Oh, lord...”

But Roland only laughed. “Come now, Bailey – Someone was bound to find out sooner or later. And besides, I’m king now, not my frigid parents. If anyone has a problem with this or any other thing you or I do, they can take it up with me. Which I assure you, they won’t.” He finished pointedly.

“Very well, sire.” Baileywick nodded, then reached over to fix Roland’s tie. He could never get it straight... 

Well, it was a good thing Baileywick would be there to fix it for him, for a long, long time...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

(( A.N. Hehe, well, that's all folks. I've been giving some thought to a lemon chapter too, but I'm probably the only person who even likes this pairing, so I doubt there'll be any demand for it. ^^; ))


End file.
